


Diner Drabble Series

by endlessnightlock (Endlessnightlock)



Series: One Night Stands (aka One-Shot Collection) [18]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Awkward proposals, F/M, Katniss is working the late shift and gets to know him, Peeta owns a diner, Pie, Some sexual innuendo, Texting, Weddings, lol, love in the AM, modern a/u, not in an American Pie sort of way thought I'd better specify that one, short story based on seven drabble prompts written in the order I received them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29196168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnightlock/pseuds/endlessnightlock
Summary: A short story born from seven drabble prompts plopped into my mailbox on Tumblr. As always, I clean things up grammar and spelling wise before reposting on Ao3.Katniss and Peeta's ups and downs in a new relationship. It's mostly about the ups, and of course, there's a happy ending.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Series: One Night Stands (aka One-Shot Collection) [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001196
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Diner Drabble Series

**Author's Note:**

> All drabble prompts from the list 100 Ways To Say I Love You.
> 
> https://endlessnightlock.tumblr.com/post/641401108922826752/100-ways-to-say-i-love-you.

**“It’s two sugars, right?”**

“Here you go,” Peeta slid the coffee cup across the counter to me with a wink, which I choose to ignore for my own sake. I focus instead on wrapping my hands around the mug. I left my gloves at home again last night, and my hands are  _ freezing _ .

It’s January in the Midwest, cold and miserable outside, but Peeta’s blue eyes and frank gaze leave me as warm as the summer sun when I catch him watching me. “It’s two sugars, right?” he asks, placing both hands flat on the countertop and smiling that stupid dazzling smile.

He remembered how I take my coffee. Of course, he did.

I nod gratefully before taking a sip, trying not to feel flustered by him.

I’ve been coming into this diner every morning since I started the night shift at the lab. I live alone and hate to cook, so instead of going home and straight to bed, I come here first. The food at  _ Mellark’s _ is excellent, but honestly, it’s the owner himself who keeps me coming back. 

I can’t say why- Peeta’s the most outrageous flirt I’ve ever met in my life. I bet he’s the definition of a player, although I’m the only one he talks to when I’m here. I can just imagine, though.

It’s a good thing I’ve figured a few things out about him, or he might successfully hook me.

“Katniss?” Peeta leads in with my name as a question.

“Hmm?” I say, keeping my eyes on my laminated menu. Perusing the menu is a ruse, completely done in self-defense. I always order the same thing to eat, pancakes and scrambled eggs, when I come here, and we both know it.

“Katniss.” He says it firmly this time, so I sigh, steeling myself, and look up at him.

Peeta smiles and slowly lays his hand on the one I left resting on the countertop. 

I blink hard as a little shock travels through my wrist and up my entire arm, settling somewhere inside my chest. We stare at each other for a minute, and I’m sure my eyes are just as wide as Peeta’s.

Finally, he begins again. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

Dumbly, I nod. “Yes,” I say because I’m completely blown away by whatever the heck it was that just passed between us. Reservations or no, I can’t pass this up. “I think I would.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


**“I brought you an umbrella.”**

I glance out the back door of the employee lounge and lean my head against the glass, watching the rainfall in icy sheets, bouncing off the surface of the employee parking lot. 

What a crappy night. 

Middle of the night? Morning? I’m not sure anymore. My schedule is so screwed up from the last year of working nights I have very little concept of what continues the correct time of day anymore. 

I wish I hadn’t forgotten my lunch (dinner? mid-morning snack?) for break because I’m starving now. If it hadn’t been for Peeta distracting me all afternoon, I bet this wouldn’t have happened. 

But it’s hard to say no to him, especially when he does that thing with his fingers and tongue-

I huff out a laugh at the memory, shaking my head as I go to my locker and pull a handful of coins from my purse. Vending machine meal for my break or no, it’d been totally worth it.

The phone in my pants pocket buzzes with a text, so I pull it out and check to see who it is. Speak of the devil himself.

**Peeta: You left your lunch at my place.**

I type out a quick reply and hit send.

**Yeah, someone had me running late this afternoon… I wonder who that was?**

I wait and then laugh at his quick response.

**Peeta: I don’t know, but I’d like to have a few words with that guy.**

**Peeta: Seriously though, my late shift guy called off, so I made you something for dinner. I didn’t want you to be hungry. Can you walk over to the diner?**

I smile at Peeta’s thoughtfulness. I’m regretful as I reply.

**Sorry, I would, but the weather is crap. I don’t want to come back in forty-five minutes as a drowned rat.**

**Peeta: Come downstairs then. I brought you an umbrella. We’ll walk over together.**

I peer out into the dark. At the employee entrance to the lab stands Peeta, in the cold and rain and with no idea whether I would have been able to get away from the lab tonight or not, with a large umbrella over his head.

Darn it, Peeta. It’s not fair. 

I think I’m already in love with him.

* * *

  
  


**“You didn't have to ask.”**

It's not an ideal night to be out here in the almost-cold-enough-to freeze weather. It's raining harder now, with water droplets pining crazily around my leather-boot encased feet on the sidewalk and dripping down the side of the umbrella as we scurry away from the lab like mice in the dark.

“This was a terrible idea, ” Peeta mutters under his breath. “I should have brought you over dinner instead of making you walk to the diner in the rain. I could’ve at least asked- gave you the option either way.”

It’s dark, and we’re moving at a brisk pace, so Peeta doesn’t see the expression on my face, but I frown at him. It was so thoughtful of him to walk over and get me; I don’t care about getting a little wet. I have him to keep me warm.

“Peeta,” I say. My arm is looped through the nook of his elbow, so I tug on it, asking him to stop on the wet sidewalk.

When we’re still, and water droplets are bouncing off the sidewalk and soaking the hem of my pants, I lean onto my tiptoes and kiss him square on the mouth, savoring the closeness we’re sharing under the shelter of his umbrella. “You didn’t have to ask,” I say. “But I wouldn’t say no to you taking me back to the lab later in your work van if you want.”

“Deal,” he says, looping my arm through his again. “Let’s keep walking, though. It’s freezing.”

* * *

  
  


**“I noticed.”**

**“I hope you like it.”**

After managing the lock on my apartment door, Peeta follows me into my bedroom. Once we both kick off our shoes and leave them at the foot of the bed, he flops down on the mattress beside me.

When I wake up eight hours or so from now, I’ll probably regret the puddles left on the hardwood floor by our boots.

Right now, I’m too exhausted to care.

“I’m so tired,” I barely make out from Peeta around his face-splitting yawn. He’s typically still at the diner this time of the morning, but he’s taking the rest of the day off after filling in for the late shift guy who called off- Pollux, who had a family emergency.

“Me too,” I say, pulling the covers up over both of us. I don’t have a reason to be so tired, except for slogging through the cold last night and early this morning.

I roll onto my side, and Peeta puts his arm around my waist, tugging my body until he’s the big spoon behind me.

I sigh. It’s so cozy under the blanket, and Peeta’s so firm and warm behind me.

But then I notice something.

Speaking of firm- there is definitely something  _ firm _ against my backside.

“Katniss,” Peeta whispers in my ear, his voice a sleepy laugh, “I have something for you.”

“I noticed,” I mumble, wiggling my bottom against him, although my heart isn’t really in it. I can barely keep my eyes open.

“I hope you like it, ” he snickers-

-and now I know that while Peeta Jr might be awake, the man who runs the show is barely hanging in by a thread. He’s laughing like a teenage boy at his joke, a sure sign he’s deliriously tired.

“It’s just your size.”

I bite my lip. Why does Peeta have to be so funny- it just makes him that much sexier to me.

“Can I get a rain check?” I ask.

I wait for an answer, but all I get is a light snore.

* * *

**“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”**

I stare down at the ring. It’s beautiful, a silvery pearl surrounded by tiny clusters of diamonds nestled in its black velvet box- any girl’s dream. It makes my chest ache to look at it, knowing the thought and care Peeta put into selecting it for me. 

“It’s so pretty,” I whisper.

“When I saw it in the case at the jewelers, I thought it was perfect. It reminded me of your eyes,” Peeta says, staring up at me from his place on the floor next to my feet.

I have to wonder why he was even at the jeweler's. 

We’ve only been together for a few months- and five minutes ago was the first time Peeta told me he loved me. I love him, too, and I told him so. 

But this feels so soon- so rushed. We hardly know each other.

“I know we haven’t been seeing each other for very long,” he echoes my thoughts, “but Katniss, I love you. I want to marry you. Will you?” Peeta asks, hopefully.

I can’t look at him.

When we woke up from our exhaustion-induced heavy sleep, I thought we’d make love or something, based on his playfulness from before. I imagined anything other than this scenario where I would be rejecting his marriage proposal.

I have to, even though it’s going to hurt him badly. It’s not because I can’t imagine us doing this someday- I just can’t imagine it  _ today _ .

“I can’t.” I hear myself say, looking up just in time to watch helplessly as the happiness slips off Peeta’s face.

“Oh,” he says, blinking hard- like he’s closing off a door to me.

_ Oh no. _

“Peeta- it’s just- I’m not ready,” I say. It’s only half an explanation and an inadequate one for the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh. Of course,” he says, standing up. “I’m sorry- this was so stupid,” he mutters. 

He still won’t look at me.

“I do love you,” I say helplessly. “It’s just too-”

“It’s too soon,” Peeta supplies, staring down at the box. “I know it’s soon. It’s just that I thought-”

I try to grab his hand, but he steps away from me, hurt. 

Peeta stares down at the floor. I hate that he won’t look at me. 

“I need to go home now.”

**kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp**

I’m lying on my bed hours later, eyes dry and aching from all the crying I’ve done since Peeta left. The whole evening has gone by in one long stream of questions. Questioning myself. Questioning him and his actions.

Have I lost him? I’m going to hate myself if I have. 

But I still can’t quite convince myself that I should have said yes to Peeta’s proposal. 

I know I’m not ready to think about marrying him now. I love him, and I  _ like _ him even more, but I don’t go running blindly into things and expect the best is going to happen. 

And Peeta? He doesn’t even know me well enough yet to realize that. 

So why would he think we should get married?

The phone on my nightstand vibrates with a text message, just as I’m telling myself I’d better get up and get ready for work. Of course, it’s from Peeta, although I would’ve expected a phone call instead after the way he left.

**Peeta: I’m at the diner, and I can’t get away to call right now, but I had to get ahold of you. You’ve been on my mind all day.**

At least he’s reaching out after leaving in a huff. While a part of me thinks I should make this difficult on him for leaving me wondering if I’d ever hear from him again, I’ve never been one for playing games with people.

**Katniss: It’s okay. I’ve been thinking about you too.**

**Peeta: I miss you.**

**Katniss: <3\. I wish you hadn’t left that way.**

**Peeta: I’m sorry. I handled things poorly.**

**Katniss: I know. The thing was- my answer wasn’t really a no. It was not yet. I want you in my life more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’m just afraid of ruining things if we rush it.**

**Peeta: I know- I knew it was too soon, I just get too gung-ho sometimes.**

I laugh at that, a choking, emotional sound in the silence of my bedroom.

**Peeta: I’m so happy with you. I’ll still be here when you’re ready if you want me to be.**

**Katniss: I really do.**

**Peeta: Can I come on your lunch break and see you tonight? I miss you. We can talk more then, or not at all.**

Tears slip down my cheeks, the burden of wondering whether the two of us would get through this lifting off my shoulders. 

**Katniss: Yes. Of course. I love you.**

**Peeta: I love you too.**

**Peeta: And I’ll bring you food.**

**Katniss: That’s my guy. <3**

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**“You’re important too.”**

  
  


“What are you thinking about?” I ask Peeta, glancing over at him from the passenger side seat of his delivery van, trying to get a read on what‘s on his mind. He’s unusually reticent tonight.

It’s dark in the van. Regardless of that, I can tell Peeta’s focus is on the street outside when he shrugs. “Still feeling a little embarrassed,” he admits, after wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He forgot to bring us napkins, but at least there are spoons.

I’m on my 2 a.m. lunch break again. We’ve spent our time polishing off slices of peach pie Peeta brought for us to eat instead of talking. When I climbed into his vehicle ten minutes or so ago, he asked if I could go for a change of scenery. I agreed, so we drove a little way across the city.

Now the two of us are sitting in his van in a parking lot downtown. The skyline of the city stretches before us. A few offices are lit up, but the street is mostly shadows due to the late (early?) hour. The spotlights from our minor league baseball team’s stadium stay on all night long, though, and serve as a backdrop against the taller building between it and us. 

Peeta and I didn’t speak much as he drove us here- it’s obvious there’s still some tension in the air over the way he left my apartment after I turned down his marriage proposal.

We spoke via text and cleared some things up, but the issue with discussing important things through text is that afterward, you’re left in a weird state, wondering whether you need to talk those things over in person one more time or not. That’s where we’re at right now.

“I can’t believe I asked you to marry me already,” Peeta says, eyes focused on the dark street in front of us. There’s a note of shame in his voice that I hate. “Who does that?”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I say, trying to reassure him. “It just surprised me. You probably haven’t figured this out yet, but I don’t handle being caught off guard well.”

Peeta huffs like he doesn’t believe what I’m saying.

“What?” I frown at him. “I’m being honest with you right now.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’ve never learned to play things cool,” Peeta admits. “It sure would save me a lot of trouble if I could ever figure that out.”

“Have you asked lots of women to marry you before?” I ask, hating the way the question makes my chest ache. The thought of what Peeta and I have as something less than the once in a lifetime thing I thought it was is like a punch to the gut.

Which doesn’t seem fair, but it is what it is.

Peeta looks over and grins before I have a chance to let my imagination run wild.

“No- you’re the first. My feelings just run deep too fast, especially when it comes to you. I get attached to people faster than I should- I was just saying that I should learn to ignore those feelings more often than I do. It would save everyone a lot of heartaches.”

“Peeta- your feelings are important. You’re important too.”

I turn in my seat to face Peeta, taking his hand in mine, tugging on it when he still won’t look at me. Finally, I get him to, and when he does, I go on. “Don’t ever be less of who you are. I love that you’re so crazy about me.”

When Peeta sighs, I give him the stink eye- severing the tension when he laughs.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know what? I can’t predict the future, but I really hope you ask me to marry you again someday.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If the lady insists.”

“She does.”

And then I kiss him, the flavor of him and peaches and happiness on my tongue.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Prompt number 38 I like your laugh. 😂**

  
  
  
  


_ Two years later _

“Peeta!” Prim says, laughing at my fiancee’s persistent attempts to get through the door of the makeshift dressing room. 

I glance over and just make out the edges of his wavy blond hair peeking around the frame. I’m sure Peeta is leaning against the door and is right in the middle of giving my sister puppy eyes so she’ll let him in the room.

It’s a move he uses when he wants to get his way with me, but Prim, even as much as she likes Peeta, is a tougher nut to crack. I can hear the disapproval in her tone. “It’s bad luck to see her in her dress before the wedding. Now go wait at the front before you ruin everything.”

We- me, Prim, my bridesmaids, and mother, who won’t stop wiping her eyes, are all crowded into the church nursery. My father just left to wait at the back of the sanctuary. Dad spent a good portion of the morning with Peeta and his groomsmen but, like my mother, has been sort of clingy. It’s almost time to begin.

You’d think my parents didn’t like Peeta. For the record, they do.

"Actually,” I say, “why don’t you guys give us a minute?” I say, shooing Prim and Mom, Madge, Johanna, and Annie out the door.

“But it’s tradition!” Prim argues, frowning at me as she leaves.

I roll my eyes. “Peeta and I woke up together this morning. What’s the difference?”

I leave out any mention of the wedding-morning-tumble that took place before we got out of the bed. Hey, the bride and groom are supposed to be relaxed and happy on their big day, right?

“It’s fine,” I reassure her. “See you in a few minutes.”

Once everyone else is gone, Peeta steps through the doorway before pulling it shut behind him. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around my waist and kiss me. 

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey you,” I say, looking up at him. 

Peeta’s eyes skim up and down my body, taking in the simple-lined, ivory dress I’m wearing for our soon-to-begin wedding. “You look beautiful today.”

I step away and turn in a circle, showing him how the dress flares out at the bottom. Peeta laughs at my impromptu show for him. It’s unlike me, and I know I’m acting foolish, but I’m happy. 

Our wedding is happening, and it’s happening when it was supposed to.

“Well, I like your laugh,” I say, putting my arm through his. “Are you ready to go get married now?”

Peeta raises his eyebrow; he sounds incredulous, but I know he’s pulling my leg. “You’re asking  _ me _ if I’m the ready one? If you remember, I’ve been ready. Too ready even.”

“Oh, yeah,” I say, and then we’re laughing together, warm and private, a joke between us that no one else knows. I never did mention Peeta’s first proposal to anyone. I’m so glad we didn’t rush into this- the day wouldn’t have been nearly so sweet.

Speaking of sweet, Peeta and I eschewed the traditional wedding cake and are serving pie to our guests at the reception instead: apple, blackberry, cherry, or peach. I know what flavor I’ll have.

“We should probably go,” he says. “If you’re ready?”

“Absolutely,” I answer. “Let’s get married.”

  
  



End file.
